I was standing by the window full of exultation, triumphing in the bravery and daring of the Englishmen, who must have been outnumbered by six to one, when I heard shots close at hand, yells, shouts, and the rush of feet; and the next minute my attendants and guards came backing in, fighting desperately as much in my defence as for their own lives, for they were driven from room to room by half a dozen men of the foot regiment that had stormed the place, and then for the first time I recalled that I was standing there in turbaned helmet and regular Eastern uniform, girt with jewelled belts, and with a magnificent tulwar at my side. "They'll take me for a Hindu chief," I thought as, quick as lightning, I snatched out the blade. I was just in time. Half my defenders were down, the others had dropped from the windows in spite of the depth, and two men with levelled bayonets dashed at me. I did not think I could have done it, but I had worked hard at sword practice, and with a parry I turned one bayonet aside, avoided the other with a bound, and sent the man who would have run me through, down on his knees, with a terrible cut across the ear. The others turned upon me, but I had found my tongue. "Halt! Back, you idiots!" I roared. "I am a friend." "Oh, bedad, an' I don't belave ye," cried one of the party, as the others hesitated; and he held his bayonet to my breast. "Give up yez sword, or I'll make a cockchafer of ye." I turned his point, and cut at another man frantically, for they were too much excited to listen to explanations. But in another instant I believe I should have been bayoneted, if there had not been a wild cry, and a dark figure rushed between me and my dangerous friends. "Stop, he's a sahib," roared the new-comer, and I saw it was Dost. "Then he's me prisoner, and that sword's me loot," cried the Irishman. "Stand back!" I roared. "I am Lieutenant Vincent, of Captain Brace's troop." I took off my helmet as I spoke, and the men were convinced. "Look at that now," said the Irishman; "jest, too, when I thought I'd got a bit of lovely shpoil." At that moment there was a rush of feet, and a tall grey officer hurried in, followed by another, and quite a crowd of men. "Have you found him?" cried the tall officer. "Oh, bedad, yis, colonel," cried the Irishman. "What! the rajah?" "Yis, sor. There he is, only he shwears he's a liftinant in a troop." "That!" cried the officer; and then, in a choking voice, "Why, Gil, my boy, is this you?" I could not speak, only cling to him who had a thousand times nursed me in his arms. "Hold up, boy, be a man," he whispered; but his arms tightened round me. "I thought you were dead, Gil," he cried excitedly. "But why are you like this?" "I am a prisoner, father," I said. "But the rajah?" he said excitedly. "Where is he?" "He left here an hour ago to head his men," I said. "But, father, if you take him, defend him; he has been very good to me."